Mental Baggage
by Matril
Summary: Lizzie Bennet Diaries. It's Jane and Bing's wedding, and Lydia and Caroline are forced to acknowledge each other's existence. Maybe they even find some common ground.
1. Totes Awkward

_I found myself wanting to write Lydia and Caroline interactions, basically because they're like two ends of a spectrum and it's fun to play with that. There will be a second scene from Caroline's point of view._

Two days until the wedding. Maybe there was still some way to back out of it.

No, she'd never do that to Jane. Even though she had, like, a billion bridesmaids, she'd still notice if Lydia wasn't one of them. And Lydia didn't actually want to miss Jane and Bing's wedding. She'd just rather do it sitting on a bench way in the back.

It wasn't the attention she dreaded. No way. She had a blast at Lizzie and Darcy's wedding two months ago. The bridesmaid dresses were totes adorbs, and she really rocked hers. Lots of people said so. She loved attention. She loved parties. Being (near) the center of attention at a ginormous party? Best thing ever.

The problem wasn't the wedding. It was the company. Specifically, one member of the company.

Caroline.

Yeah, Lydia had seen her now and then over the last few years. It was impossible to completely avoid each other, having Jane and Bing for siblings. Those two would be happy if everyone in the world loved everyone else like cuddly puppies and bunnies. Not possible, but as a compromise, at family gatherings Lydia didn't leave the room when Caroline came in, and Caroline did the same. That was about the best they could manage. Lizzie and Darcy's wedding wasn't a big problem, since Caroline was a regular guest. Now they'd be standing in the same line together.

She didn't even hate Caroline. She was just super intimidating. Way glamorous and poised and perfect, and oh right, she'd trashed Lydia on Lizzie's videos. Didn't matter that Lydia was a college graduate with a job, a totes competent adult. Didn't matter that she had an awesome boyfriend now, a guy who was as thoughtful as he was hot. Nope. If she had to talk to Caroline, she'd go straight back to feeling like the idiot loser sister who'd ruined her reputation and her family and pretty much the lives of everyone she came in contact with. There was no escaping it.

Two days.

Too bad she was so busy freaking out about this when she should be having the time of her life. They were at a super swanky hotel in New York City, and the Lees were paying for everything. They'd insisted on it after Bing and Jane politely but firmly told them they'd like to plan their own wedding without any interference from parents. Blocked from funding a massive reception, Bing's family instead poured all their money into the accommodations. Lydia wouldn't be able to afford a suite like this, packed with king-sized beds and tons of yummy amenities, if she saved up all her paychecks for the next ten years.

She was ignoring it all, plopped on the bed, staring at her phone. Usually her boyfriend's texts made her feel tons better, but right now even his _Miss you, sorry I couldn't be there_ wasn't helping much.

There were two choices, the way she figured it. She could keep her mouth shut all day long whenever she was around Caroline, which was totes against her nature and would probably have her going beserk by midnight. Or she could be herself and enjoy some much-deserved party time – except she wouldn't be able to enjoy it at all, not with the knowledge that Caroline was there, watching her and judging her in her smug perfection. Dropping her bridesmaid duties altogether was sounding more and more tempting.

It was so bad, she almost started texting Jane. But then someone knocked at the door.

"It's not locked; come in," she said, not really caring who it was. Being alone was making her crazy. She'd even be happy to talk to the cleaning lady right about now.

She heard the hinges click as the door opened, and then a distinctive, deliberate throat-clearing.

Before she looked up, she already knew it was Caroline.

"Wrong room?" Lydia said, trying to sound casual and not like she was kind of sort of terrified.

"Hello, Lydia," Caroline said, smooth and calm. How did she _always_ manage to look like she was about to walk down a fashion runway? "We need to have a talk."

"Do we?" Her voice came out way weaker than she wanted it to.

Without bothering to answer, Caroline came inside and sat at a table in a single sleek motion. Lydia managed to pull herself up to a half-slump. If she tried to imitate Caroline's poise, she'd just feel even frumpier.

"We've danced around this issue long enough," Caroline said, tossing back her flawless hair. Lydia seriously suspected that she had a permanent team of hairdressers trailing her at all times. "We can't spend the foreseeable future politely pretending the other doesn't exist."

Lydia shrugged. "Sounds like a pretty good plan to me."

"It sounds like a recipe for repressed resentment, leading up to explosive, embarrassing breakdowns. And believe me," Caroline added with a sarcastic smile, "I've had experience with those."

"Me too," Lydia had to admit.

"So. In the past I said a number of indecorous things about you. I offer my apology."

Lydia couldn't begin to guess, from the steady tone of her voice, whether Caroline was sincere or not. It didn't really matter, did it? "Thanks. Uh, sorry for the stuff, you know, that I said. Or did."

"Actually, Lydia, I don't believe you ever wronged me."

Lydia narrowed her eyes. "Really?"

Caroline nodded serenely. "Not directly. Your family interfered with my vision for my brother's future, but you, individually, were only a symbol of that interference. I insulted you as a form of lashing out against the destruction of my plans. It wasn't rational or merited."

Now Lydia was actually tempted to snort. Who talked like that? "Have you been seeing a shrink?"

"Obviously. My parents started sending to me to psychiatrists when I was twelve," Caroline said, rolling her eyes. "I can't seem to get out of the habit. I suppose I enjoy dumping all my mental baggage on someone who's legally obligated to keep quiet about it."

Lydia couldn't help it. She laughed out loud. "You know, I never thought of it that way."

"You're welcome."

This was not what she had expected. Caroline was still as – as _Caroline_ as ever, smugly full of herself, looking down at all the poor souls who couldn't be her. But somewhere underneath that perfect mask, she was letting Lydia see a tiny crack. She guessed Caroline didn't allow that very often. She kind of felt privileged. Weird, but true.

"Well, that's over with," Caroline said, getting up. "Now we can behave like human beings around each other."

"Guess so."

"See you at the wedding." And then she was gone, leaving a cloud of perfume that was probably too expensive for Lydia to even breathe.

Yeah, they probably wouldn't become besties any time soon. But they'd both be carrying a lot less – what had Caroline called it? – _mental baggage_. Family get-togethers would be a lot less awkward. And this wedding was going to be awesome. Sure, Caroline was the most glamorous of Jane's bridesmaids, but Lydia was definitely the most adorbs. Red-headed baby sister EFF-TEE-DUBS.


	2. Progress

Settling down at the bar while her head throbbed with the relentless beat of inane dance music, Caroline ordered another drink. She usually kept count, but she wasn't bothering tonight. There was no need to cling to a particle of sobriety; Jane had plenty of other bridesmaids to keep her company.

It was strangely freeing, a rare opportunity to relax in a public setting. Caroline was the sole keeper of the family reputation, now that Bing was busy _finding himself_ or whatever he thought he was doing in New York. No distinguished doctor to carry on the proud Lee name, so it was entirely up to her. She prided herself on being able to carry the burden alone, but sometimes she needed a break. Sometimes she envied Bing.

She watched as Jane's little sister ambled up to the bar. Speaking of….Caroline wouldn't admit it to a soul, not ever her close-mouthed therapist, but sometimes she envied Lydia. Not her relative poverty or her garish fashion sense, obviously. But she wondered, now and then, how it would be if no one had any expectations of her. There'd be no way to disappoint anyone. No reputation to uphold.

It was bad enough for Lydia when that tape almost went public. A misstep like that would be professional and social suicide for Caroline. Trusting anyone completely and utterly, letting herself become that vulnerable, was entirely out of the question.

And her traitor subconscious zeroed in on Darcy and Lizzie, sitting cozily together at a table across the room, an incisive reminder of the sort of relationship she didn't want, didn't need and probably couldn't get if she tried.

"So, were you, like, in love with him?"

Caroline started. She hadn't noticed Lydia choosing a seat so close by, clutching some fruity, sugary drink in her hand. In spite of her tendency to talk like a thirteen-year-old, there was real sympathy in her voice. And Caroline found herself forcing down her knee-jerk tendency toward sarcasm, giving the question genuine consideration.

"No, I don't think so. I saw potential there. We made a good team." She tapped a finger to the rim of her glass. "But he didn't make any romantic motions, so I kept my emotional distance. I'm not the sort of woman who pines."

"Yeah, that doesn't surprise me."

"Really?" She arched an eyebrow. "You don't pity me, poor Caroline, left in the dust because she didn't deserve Darcy like Lizzie did?"

"Oh, you got messages from Lizzie's angry fans too, huh?" Lydia sipped her drink. "I guess you would have. That sucks."

"Frankly, those were the nice ones. The others - well, you learn to filter them out after a while."

"Yeah. Eventually."

Caroline hesitated, then found herself going on, "They were right, in one sense. Darcy has a sentimental side that I find hard to stomach. We wouldn't have worked out in the long run. And your sister might actually be good for him, in spite of my initial assumptions."

"That's, like, super-mature and stuff."

"Thank you, Lydia. You've matured well yourself."

Lydia snorted. "You saw me on the dance floor a few minutes ago, right?"

Caroline smiled. "I believe it's considered socially acceptable to let loose at a wedding. And I wasn't comparing you to myself. The only comparison that matters is with your own past self."

"Sounds like one of those dumb motivational posters."

"But true regardless."

"Sure. Well," Lydia started ticking it off on her fingers, "I've got a college degree, an awesome boyfriend and a job. So that's a whole crapload better than two years ago. You?"

"No complaints. I just got a promotion, I've had a full month of stellar hair days, and I've stopped baby-sitting my brother through every one of his dubious life choices." She lifted her glass. "To progress?"

"To progress," Lydia echoed, and they clinked their drinks together.


End file.
